


Protect It With Your Life

by IspeakfortheQueen



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins)
Genre: Crosssover, Diana's not there but she's discussed by other people, Discussions about trousers, F/F, Nothing like a little sapphic pining, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23452609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IspeakfortheQueen/pseuds/IspeakfortheQueen
Summary: Etta needs to find a safe place to keep Captain Trevor's lady friend's sword.  Thankfully she knows of a couple of old maids on Paternoster Row who know a thing or two about swords.  A crossover set immediately after the shopping sequence in Wonder Woman (2017).
Relationships: Etta Candy & Diana (Wonder Woman), Jenny Flint/Madame Vastra
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Protect It With Your Life

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the beginning of this when I was sitting in the movie theater watching Wonder Woman (2017) nearly three years ago. I put it in a document, added some more stuff, promptly forgot about it, found it while looking for another WIP in the same file, and decided to brush it off. This was written so long ago I don't even remember who Sir Patrick is lol

Normally Etta was more than adept at navigating the crowded streets of Central London but with a heavy sword, unsheathed no less, and shield in hand, it would be difficult getting back to Sir Patrick before Captain Trevor went and did something reckless.

She hailed a cab and instructed the driver to take her to the backside of Saint Paul’s Cathedral.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Museum with those artifacts?” joked the driver.

“Just carrying them for a friend,” she huffed.

“Jokes aside, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen swords heading to Paternoster Row.”

“Oh I believe it.”

When they arrived, Etta paid the cab driver off and trudged down the row of elegant townhouses with her cargo. Diana did make holding the items seem so easy. Etta thought that Diana must be as strong as a hundred men to carry such things. The mysterious woman did have a such a well built body- _athletic_ was the word for it- Etta’s mind drifted back to the dressing room… A blue door to her right caught her eye and she crossed the street.

She knocked on the front door of Number 13 but when it was clear that no one was going to answer her despite the obvious commotion in the house, Etta took the servant’s entrance and knocked on the backdoor. In the yard there were workmen busy loading up an old carriage with luggage. The carriage looked like it had seen its fair share of adventures in its day. The house’s odd little butler was standing in the yard shouting nonsensical things to the workmen. The workmen seemed to be ignoring the butler and going about their business as usual.

The door was opened by a petite woman who wore her hair in a neat bun. There were a few silver streaks in her otherwise dark hair. 

“Etta! What a surprise!” 

“I’m sorry to bother you Mrs. Flint, I have a favor I need to ask of you.” Etta eyed Mrs. Flint’s trousers, realizing too late that she should have asked for Mrs. Flint’s tailor to dress Diana.

“I’m afraid we’re on a tight schedule at the moment. Madame and I are traveling to France tomorrow morning. “

“Straight into danger?” Etta gaped.

“As always,” Mrs. Flint grinned before standing aside, “Come on in- we still have time for a cuppa.”

Etta stepped into the kitchen. It was just an ordinary kitchen, which somehow seemed strange to her. She knew that the women of this household were not the old maids they were rumored to be. They had helped her and her brother in the most bizarre situations when they were children. Mrs. Flint pulled some ordinary teacups out of the cupboard and Etta wondered if wherever Diana was from they had regular kitchens and sat down to tea like this.

“What brings you here? Have a seat. I’m afraid Madame is too preoccupied for a proper audience right now.”

Etta tried to pull out a chair at the kitchen table but lost her grip on her items and the sword and shield fell loudly to the floor.

“Oh!” Etta shouted in surprise. “Well, Mrs. Flint, I had come with a couple of favors to ask of you.”

“I can see that,” Mrs. Flint abandoned the kettle at once to look at the weapons. She tried to lift the sword by it's hilt but the thing wouldn't budge from the floor. "Heavy innit?"

“I came because I was hoping that you could hold these for my employer- rather a friend of my employer- I was instructed to take extra care of them and you know the most about swords out of anyone I know but if you’ll be out of town, I think it’s best I find somewhere else to store these.”

“I think that might be for the best. Oh but they're so beautiful, Etta! Where did you say you found them again?”

“They belong to Captain Trevor’s lady friend. He crashed his plane over the Mediterranean, you see- somewhere near Greece I imagine. That’s where he met this woman who rescued him from the water. He brought her back to London and she brought these with her- some sort of family heirloom. She’s very protective of them.”

“I would be too,” Mrs. Flint practically cooed as she gazed at the blade.

“I just spent the day shopping with the dear Diana, that's her name, Diana. She didn’t have a scrap of winter clothes. It’s quite warm where she’s from you see.”

“Oh, the poor thing.”

“We spent all day shopping for the right clothes and I come here and realize she should have had trousers," Etta chuckled, "Like the ones you’ve got.”

“I likely have a few old pairs lying around," Mrs. Flint went round to pour the boiling water into a teapot, "Would you like me to lend you some?”

“Oh heaven’s no, she’s not your figure. She’s rather...” Etta thought for a moment. What was Diana? Athletic? Muscular? A literal goddess? Etta raised her hand in the air and said, “Tall! And at any rate she’s got a full wardrobe now. Just wish I had thought of trousers when we were at Harrod’s.” 

Mrs. Flint gave a snort as she sat at the table, “They won’t sell you trousers like these at Harrod’s. What are her measurements? Madame's tall and certainly has a pair she can spare.” She smiled and leaned back in her chair and said in the direction of the stairway, “She’s quite the clothes horse you know, but she only ever wears skirts these days.”

“Whatever are you gossiping about?” said an annoyed voice from the top of the stairs. There was the sound of women's boots descending the steps and the Great Detective of Paternoster Row had entered the kitchen. “I have been known to wear trousers in my time.”

“Oh tosh, I haven’t seen you wear trousers since the turn of the century!”

“They were cycling breeches,” huffed Madame Vastra while Mrs. Flint rolled her eyes. Madame Vastra was wearing something very near to what Diana had been wearing when they left the department store, except in a deep purple taffeta instead of Diana's smart brown wool. She also had an almost old fashioned mourner’s veil tossed over her face. In all her time knowing these two old maids, Etta had never seen Madame Vastra’s face and could only conjecture at to why she hid it from the world.

Madame Vastra bobbed her head in greeting, “Miss Candy. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Hello Madame Vastra. I came hoping that you could safe guard some items for one of Captain Trevor’s friend in that vault of yours but I don’t think it’s very practical now, seeing as you’re about to go abroad.”

Etta noticed suddenly that Mrs. Flint had preemptively set a third cup and saucer on the table. It became clear that Madame Vastra had seen the sword and shield when she paused in her beeline to the teapot. She gave out a soft gasp and knelt down to gaze admiringly at the weapons.

“Simply gorgeous,” she said as she tried and failed to lift the sword by its handle. She cocked her head and tried again. After the second attempt, the Detective did not try again. “How curious,” she said, sounding rather put out that she could not move it. “Wherever did you find these?”

Etta told the story again as Mrs. Flint poured tea for everyone. She was able to recall a few more details that she had remembered from Captain Trevor’s correspondences and her day out with Diana.

When she was done Madame Vastra was holding her teacup (from which she had been drinking under her veil) in both hands and Etta had a feeling that beneath all the black lace, the Madame was beaming. “How very exciting!” she exclaimed. “I say, I should like to visit an island like the one Miss Diana hails from someday. How do you feel about travel, Jenny? When this is all over?”

“We’ve already been to Greece,” said Mrs. Flint, who was now leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, “Miss Barney remember?”

“How could I forget,” said Madame Vastra in a low voice and Etta was compelled to take a large gulp of tea and pretend not to notice how Miss Flint gently kicked the Madame under the table.

“Which reminds me, she’s invited us to stay at her house in Paris if we get tired of the war effort,” said Madame Vastra, trying appease the other woman.

“Over my dead body,” sniped Mrs. Flint. 

“Oh please don’t jest about such things dear,” said Madame Vastra softly.

“Sorry,” said Mrs. Flint, now quietly squeezing Madame Vastra’s gloved hand. There was an awkward silence before Etta cleared her throat.

“I am dreadfully sorry, Miss Candy,” said Madame Vastra, turning her veiled face to her, “I wish we had some way of helping you, but the house will be locked up once we leave and I fear with the state of the world as it is, that your Diana will be needing her invaluable weapons sooner than later.”

“ _My_ Diana,” Etta spluttered her tea. "She's not-" 

“As to the matter of borrowing trousers, I think I might be a good match to Miss Diana, judging by the proportions of the sword. It would be easier if I could pick it up and then we’d know for sure, but I suspect there are few people in this world who could pick up a blade like that.” Before Etta could object and mention that it wasn't that hard, Madame Vastra set her drained teacup on the saucer and stood up quickly. "I'm afraid I need to take care of a few more correspondences and wrap up some business here before we head out tomorrow. Thank you for coming to see us, Miss Candy. Perhaps after all this dreadful business is over, we can have tea again and you can bring this Diana of yours." 

"Well she's Captain Trevor's friend really but, well- yes, that would be nice," Etta could feel herself flushing and stood to receive a careful embrace from Madame Vastra.

Madame Vastra went back up the stairs, leaving Etta again with Mrs. Flint. Mrs. Flint leaned back in her chair. "Well then," she said, raising an eyebrow, "Trousers?" 

Mrs. Flint lead Etta upstair. When they passed through the ground floor, Madame Vastra popped her veiled head out of what appeared to be a study, "Just not the grey worsted ones, dear. I do love that pair." 

"You haven't worn them in a decade!" 

"I know but sentimental value." 

Mrs. Flint gave an exasperated groan and lead on to the second floor. The further up they got, the more the house no longer looked as normal as the kitchen. The walls were crammed with bookshelves and there were strange paintings on the walls and every corner seemed to have a potted plant so that the halls seemed to resemble a jungle more than a house. They reached the door to what was presumably the Madame's bedroom and Mrs. Flint stopped her, "Wait out here. It's an absolute wreck in there what with all the packing. I'll be out in a moment." She slipped through the door, leaving Etta waiting in the hall.

Etta did not know where Madame Vastra was from originally, but she knew that she was not from in or around London. She came from a place with different plants and different art and that's why some parts of this house looked so strange. Then Etta started wondering about the sort of plants that grew in the place Diana came from and the sort of artwork that the women made there. It would make a house look quite different than what she was used to but that wouldn't be so bad, wouldn't it? Would a house that Etta shared with Diana look something like this? Sharing a house with Diana sounded rather exciting now that she took the time to think about it. Etta shook her head. Why on earth was she imagining living in a house with Diana? Captain Trevor probably had intentions of marrying her anyway. Why else would he have brought her all the way out to London during a war?

Mrs. Flint slipped back into the hallway with an arm full of trousers. "Right," she said, "Let's take a look shall we? If they're a few inches short you can always say it was to help with the salvage. Seems to be working with skirts these days."

In short time Etta found herself giving her farewells to Mrs. Flint, with more promises of "when this is all over". Etta gave a wave to the butler who was still shouting things in the yard and hailed another cab to take her back to where she would find Captain Trevor and his Diana. She managed to balance the sword, shield, and now a parcel of woman’s trousers wrapped neatly in brown paper and twine all the way there. She hoped Diana would like the trousers.


End file.
